


Step by Step

by Pride_99



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Arguing, Confessions, Jealousy, Kissing, Laver Cup, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pride_99/pseuds/Pride_99
Summary: After the Laver Cup doubles, Roger was delighted that he and Novak had a friendly moment.Until the moment was gone.
Relationships: Novak Djokovic/Roger Federer, Roger Federer & Rafael Nadal
Comments: 12
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This most likely didn't happen.

When Roger entered the lounge, still wiping his hair, he did not expect to find anyone, especially the Serb there, sitting casually and staring at the screen which was playing back the doubles they just finished. Roger made a grimace as the scene of being hit on the back came back. Hearing the sound, Novak turned and waved at him. 

"Not going to join everyone?" Roger offered out of politeness. He did not really care where the other man chose to be.

"I don't want them to think I injured you and left you! So I waited for you." Said the Serb with a smile, "How's your back now?"

"As good as new. Thanks for waiting." Roger smiled back, pleased with the rare friendly moments between the two of them. He sat down beside Novak, turning his attention to the screen. He did not notice when his companion turned his head and look at him, surprised when Novak nudged him.

"You're not frustrated?"

"Why would I be?"

"Why? We just lost the match and more than that," said Novak with exaggerated frustration, "We blew maybe the only chance to play doubles."

Roger shrugged and looked up at the big screen, "It's not that bad. Look at that, we're close."

Novak looked up and let out a sigh of mock regret, "Yeah, that, if you hadn't double-faulted at the most important moment…"

Roger rolled his eyes.

"I was joking." Novak gave a short laugh, "I do kind of feel awful. Weren't we supposed to play the best tennis and win in straight sets? Instead of, you know, me hitting your back with a ball and we lost." He saw Roger's quirked eyebrow and gesticulated in the air, "Of course, again, I'm sorry."

"It happens. Last year with Rafa it almost happened, too," Roger said simply, frowned at the flash of displeasure on the other man's face. "Plus, I didn't know you had such high expectations for our first try."

"First try? When are we gonna get more?"

"Jesus, are you always like this after a loss? Wishing to get your revenge right away?"

"Probably. Especially this time."

Roger hummed and turned his attention back to drying his hair and watching the game. After a few minutes of peaceful silence the match came to the end with a burst of cheering.

"That forehand again."

"Right," Roger chuckled. "Rafa and I discussed at the time that there was nothing we could do to that forehand." He said with a small smile, which then turned into a frown when he saw Novak's expression changed to annoyance. "What?"

"Are you obsessed with talking about him?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Rafa on court, Rafa at press, and now Rafa again? Man, do shut up about him."

"Are you jealous?"

"Are you two a thing?" Novak asked in defiance.

Anger started to creep up as Roger saw Novak's curled lips. "I see. Everything is a joke to you."

"You're not denying it."

"I'm not saying anything. Things between me and Rafa are private." Roger said slowly, "None of your business."

Novak said nothing, but his face said it all, which made Roger let out a laugh of disbelief. "I know everything now. You always have to be such a dick to me because you hated it that he chose me."

Novak shook his head, "Shut up."

"No wonder we can't even have a normal conversation before you always ruined it."

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"If you want him so much, go after him. I'm not stopping you. Make an impression, ok? See if he's impressed." He snapped.

The Serb fell silent. Roger met his eyes and saw the suppressed anger, couldn't help but shake his head. "You know, I was actually so glad that we were having a moment of peace just now. But now I think we'd better stop trying so hard to like each other. Aren't you tired of pretending?"

He could see his words hurt Novak. He felt like shit but he was too shocked and angry to care.

"You stupid arrogant bastard." Novak stared furiously at him, his expression only made Roger laugh.

"Finally from the heart, yes?" He stood up abruptly. His towel fell on the chair but he didn't bother to pick it up. His eyes widened when he felt the powerful grip on his wrist.

He stopped and looked down, seeing Novak grabbing his wrist tightly, fixing him an intense gaze. For a second he was worried that Novak was about to hit him hard. 

"I don't want him. I'm not going after him. I want you, you stupid, arrogant bastard."

Novak let go of him, but he just froze there. It must looked funny, somehow deep inside his blank mind he thought, that he must truly look like an idiot.

Novak shook his head slightly with a sigh. He took in a deep breath, clearly overwhelmed as well.

"Had to say it because you gave me no choice. You can pretend nothing happened at all, that I never was here."

"No…" He muttered.

"No?"

"That's not possible! I…" Roger ruffled his freshly dried hair into a tangled mess. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't think…"

Novak said nothing, refused to look at him.

He inhaled sharply and started again, this time sitting down and grabbing the other man's arm. "You're right, I'm stupid. But - How… Why? Why didn't you say anything? I thought you hated me for real."

"I hate you for real." Novak glowered at him and looked away again.

"Don't!" Roger groaned, shaking Novak's arm. "I'm sorry for being rude to you all the time."

Novak said nothing.

"Novak, look at me."

Novak finally turned his hazel eyes on Roger, which was a relief.

"I'm - glad that you told me today. I really am. If you ever gave me any hint, there's no way I - "

"I did give you though. Many of them." Novak managed a wry smile.

Roger thought hard, but still nothing came up. He could only remember how they never seemed to get along.

"Well, you only saw Rafa, which is understandable. He's nice, controlled, never breaks rackets." Novak said, "I'm probably the opposite."

"I have little control over the situation when we're on court, being rivals, and the crowd, the fans are not helping. It's impossible to put the rivalry aside and that's just the way it is."

"But I want us to be nice with each other off the court as well."

"And you made that very hard."

Roger gasped, feeling dizzy. "Me?"

"The distance, Roger, no matter how I tried the distance was always there. I was being genuine, wanting to talk more, and you're always indifferent, unmoved, as if what I did was all false surface as the media likes to picture." He shrugged with an ironic smile, "Like I'm not worth knowing."

Roger let out a bitter sigh. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry for making you feel like that."

"Today I found telling jokes was effective. It was a good surprise, you know. I thought you liked…"

Roger was left speechless, which almost never happened.

They fell into an awkward silence again, this time without Novak's joke to save it.

Roger watched as his companion stood up and walked to the door without looking back.

"Novak."

The Serb stopped and turned his head, his hand still on the doorknob. 

"My back hurts."

"What?"

Roger watched the way Novak's eyebrows arched in bewilderment and said again, "It's killing me. Come and give me a massage?"

Novak blinked as if he could hardly believe it. Then he quickly jumped back, putting a hand on Roger's shoulder.

"You said it was as good as new."

"Well it hurts now."

Roger could hear the chuckle above his head, and he took the opportunity to grab Novak's hand to give it a little squeeze.

"Roger, we're gonna be late for the next match."

"Hm?" Roger looked up with a raised eyebrow, "All right, let's go then."

"No." Roger smiled at the quick, firm answer as he felt strong arms around him and the other man's chin rest gently on his head. He knew Novak was smiling from the movement of it. He put a finger on Novak's lips when the younger man tried to get closer though.

"Step by step, Novak," He said, "Give me time to catch up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you are safe at home and take care guys <3 Kudos and comments are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the Laver Cup was just Roger exploring his new feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I tried to write a little bit of follow-up, hope you like it.

When the Serb looked down, Roger saw distinct satisfaction and joy in his eyes, overwhelming him a little with brightness. He added quickly then, not wanting to get the younger man's hopes up and then disappoint him, "Novak, I mean, I'd love to be friends, but more than friends - I can't imagine it right now."

Novak nodded fervently, his hand resting assuringly on Roger's upper back. "I know. I'm happy to be friends."

"Yeah. I'm not making any promise here, you know - "

"I get it, Roger."

Roger wanted to say more, like asking him if he'd ever been with a man, because he was suddenly overcome with curiosity, but that seemed a bit too personal and intimate for _friends_. The air went quiet, for a moment neither knew what to do except looking at each other.

Novak's smile dissolved the awkwardness. "I think they're missing us."

"Yeah. Let's go." Roger followed him, the word _friends_ still hovered in his mind.

They went out together to join their teammates. Novak was indulged in his delight all the way and Roger had never been this aware of someone's presence next to him. For the first time he didn't have to look to feel the smile, and even the pace of joy that emanated from the man was clear. He looked quickly at everyone on the bench to make sure they didn't find anything strange, but other than Chardy who was waving at Novak excitedly nobody seemed to notice their approaching. 

Novak happily sat down next to Chardy and the two started chatting immediately. Roger wondered if he should go and sit there as well, because normally he surely wouldn't. Novak was holding forth, his hands gesticulating in the air and Roger couldn't help staring. It was all different now that he knew the reason Novak was radiant was not the conversation he was engaged in, but…

"Roger?"

He jerked back and saw a very confused Grigor frowning at him. He relaxed and sat down on the other end of the bench with his friend.

"Sorry I was distracted. You were saying?"

"Where have you been? Don't tell me you actually showered for 50 minutes."

Roger chuckled. "I was talking with Novak."

"Really? Thought you and Djokovic had a fight or what."

Roger broke into a laugh. He glanced over at Novak and unexpectedly caught his smiling eye, with a secret grin that could only be for one to see.

He forgot Grigor's question. He just shook his head with a helpless smile.

He paid extra attention to the Serb at dinner. Since they all ate together and he mainly talked to those around him, his occasional distraction went unnoticed. Novak was his usual self, laughing with people around. The scene intrigued him now that it stopped annoying him, but chiming in just didn't seem fit.

That night he tossed and turned in bed. The weirdness of it all made him doubt if it was a mistake after all. He thought about many of his friends, about how naturally relaxing with them and he doubted it would ever be realistic for him and Novak.

-

The next day was Novak's match against Anderson. Roger already knew how Anderson's game had improved in the doubles, but the serve clearly got to another level. He noticed as the game progressed, the audience's predictions for the two wins reversed rapidly.

During the break he walked up to the bench where Novak sat and leaned forward, muttering something like playing good and keep it up.

"His serve's crazy," Novak shook his head, water bottle in hand, "I think he's more confident after yesterday."

Roger nodded his agreement. "We wait for our chance, patience, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, unless he keeps that level up all day."

"Well if so it seems you have to think of him as someone you want to beat the most."

"You mean you?"

Roger chuckled. How unsurprising. "Whatever, Novak."

Novak glanced up quickly at him with a confident grin that he would surely consider arrogant in the past.

When the Serb returned to the court he looked more assured, pumped up by their brief talk, but the crowd obviously didn't see it. Roger wondered if anybody else saw it. They were cheering and screaming for the other team, for Anderson, thunderous applause breaking out every point he scored. At first Roger watched with amusement as the crowd got ignited by the South African's performance, but then he saw Novak shaking his head with a wry smile at himself. And it began to dawn upon him. Was that how the crowd often treated him even if he was playing well? It quickly reminded him of the many times they booing in Novak's match because that wry self-mocking smile was all too familiar.

Before he knew it he was on his feet, his hands up rallying the crowd to cheer Novak on. He then realized it must not be the ideal moment to do it, because Sascha and Grigor next to him looked up in surprise. He didn't stop it, waiting for them to join in, and the crowd was loving it, clearly unprepared and overjoyed.

When he sat back down, Novak's eyes flashed over to meet his, the intense emotion in them sharp and clear. Surprise, gratitude and others Roger couldn't distinguish all at once.

After that, every time Novak hit a good shot, he was sure to throw that ecstatic and expectant look over at the bench, at him, like a child had done a good job asking for praise. Roger could swear everyone saw it by now, how the searing look was directed at him and how it sent sparks down his spine. Yet nobody seemed to see anything.

He was restless. He couldn't sit there and let Novak's look do that to him anymore. It was absurd. He left quickly after Novak's break in the second set, grabbing a bottle of water in the lounge and sinking down into a chair, slowly regaining control of himself.

He didn't sit for long, staring at the screen to keep up with the score. The tiebreak needed him to be there, and he wanted to be there despite the butterflies in his stomach. As he walked out again, Novak looked his direction, recognizing his presence before he went back into the game.

They lost. Their opponent was better, undeniably, and Roger could see when the Serb walked back after the handshakes that he was not in a bad mood either. Roger patted him on the back and they locked eyes for a long second, long enough for him to feel shivers.

-

Roger spent his evening drinking at the pub. After a long day of confusing reflection, he was desperate to immerse himself in the music and not think about anything.

If being friends meant constantly dealing with tension and thrill like he did that day, he had to make it clear to Novak that the distance he hated was unfortunately necessary. The thought traveled fast, and instantly the Serb was all he was thinking about again. The man's desire for applause was clearly a sign of aspiration, and he wondered how he had always regarded it as arrogance.

"Thanks for today."

He nearly jumped as the voice sounded so close to his ear and a hand suddenly resting on his shoulder. He looked up and found Novak sitting beside him, with a glass of wine and a content smirk on his lips.

"When did you get here?!"

"Hey, what? What are you thinking about?"

Roger let out a deep breath, the hand on his shoulder was starting to make him uncomfortable, but Novak clearly didn't realize it. Roger shifted, calmly pushing Novak's hand off, "I'm thinking about how nice to finally have a moment alone." He rolled his eyes.

Novak made a sound but did not seem bothered. "Roger," He started again cheerfully, "You know what I've been thinking, that if you had been there the whole match, I would've won."

Roger thought of the reason he hadn't been there the whole match and took a sip. "Don't be ridiculous. What could I have done? It's over anyway."

"Well. Alright. Are you gonna drink here all night? Or you wanna come to my room and we watch something?"

Roger's eyes widened at the thought of it. Novak laughed at his funny expression, "There's Jeremy, too, we - "

"No."

It went dead silence again, how fantastic.

"Why?"

"I don't - " Roger looked at the man in front of him and failed to think of an appropriate way to explain himself. So he decided to be frank. "Novak, listen,"

There was a tinge of tension on the younger man's face.

"I'm listening."

"People don't think we're friends. God, I didn't think we were friends until yesterday. So don't you think that we being too close will start a conversation?"

"What's too close? What conversation?" Novak looked at him in disbelief, "I was just talking to you normally here in a pub, Roger! Is that too close you mean?"

"Didn't you say going to your room? Do you think it's a good idea?!"

"I didn't mean anything bad! I asked you because I found you here drinking alone, thinking about God knows what, and I've never seen you like this." He stood up, taking his glass, "It's okay if you don't want to come. No need to be so uptight."

He left right then, leaving Roger alone with his wine.

-

Novak never approached him again after. Roger did realize his poor manner and tried to apologize, but the Serb was always occupied and he didn't have a chance until the celebration after they won the trophy.

His clothes were covered with champagne and even his hair was wet. He was laughing with everyone, too, but in the corner of his eyes he searched for a slim figure. People were going wild and most of them were drunk, seizing their moment of victory and the last night before they had to go back on their normal schedule.

He saw Novak emerge from the corridor, champagne bottle in hand and a tipsy smile on his face. He was heading to Chardy, his drunken friend laughing at the table, the same man Novak had been inseparable for the last two days. Roger went up quickly and stopped him.

"Novak, I want to speak to you."

"Okay. Go on," The Serb arched an eyebrow. 

It was too noisy for the ideal conversation he longed for but that would have to do.

"I know we've agreed to be friends first, and I could see that works well for you, but for me it's not how I thought it would be, because there's this - "

"You regret it?" Novak impatiently cut short, his annoyance clear in his eyes. "What have I done wrong this time to piss you off?"

"It's not you, it's me," Roger said, "I thought it would be best to start at being friends, but you know for us it's not as easy like I'm one of your buddies over there, because you know what I mean, it's weird. Not just me finding it weird, it's everyone."

"So suddenly you become Mr concerned about what other people think?"

"No, Jesus, let me finish. I may have made a mistake to say we start from being friends - "

"Well I think you're just full of yourself, king," Novak snapped, trying to push him away, "You think it's funny, so be it,"

"Stop it, what I mean is we - "

"No, Roger, you stop it. I did nothing wrong and I knew it, and if you still find it incredibly difficult for you, then you do whatever you want - Mmpf"

Novak's eyes widened with shock as he was pulled roughly into the corner corridor and pinned against the wall and Roger's mouth immediately pressed on his.

He blinked there unable to move, and the Swiss pressed firmly onto him seemed satisfied that he finally stopped talking and a little shocked as well. 

Roger's hot breath ghosted over his face as he pulled away just a bit, his lips still locked with Novak's. Novak kissed back with the same vigor and tasted the sweetness of champagne, and he couldn't help pulling at Roger's bottom lip with his teeth. His fingers grasped loosely on Roger's collar, until seconds later they broke the kiss for air.

"So, yeah. That's what I meant." Roger said, fixing his eyes on Novak's red lips. The noise that had just blurred in his ears seemed to be slowly returning.

Novak leaned against the wall, a smug smile stole over his face. His eyelids were getting heavy, looking Roger up and down. "I thought you said you couldn't even imagine it?"

"I can now." Roger declared. "I'm a quick learner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts as always!


End file.
